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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433374">Geese and Swans</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heylir/pseuds/Heylir'>Heylir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Widdershins (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bentober, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:15:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heylir/pseuds/Heylir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three episodes from Benjamin Thackerey's life: as a schoolboy, student and librarian.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Widdershins Fanworks Month Pieces</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Geese and Swans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359199">Гуси-лебеди</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heylir/pseuds/Heylir">Heylir</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This translation was made by the author. I'd be grateful to be informed about typos and mistakes found, in order to fix them.</p><p>The text was written for Bentober, day 11 prompt <i>Birds.</i> (16.10.2019) The third part appeared in the process of writing already, after the page with new info on the theme had been posted.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cold gusts of autumn wind tore leaves from the trees, with sad cries of flying away birds accompanied its sobs. Sitting on a bench Ben looked up at a dark V of birds passing slowly across the sky.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked Verity.</p><p>She glanced briefly, “Wild geese. They fly southward.”</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“Escaping from Christmas,” she chuckled.</p><p>Ben wrinkled his nose as he usually did when Vee said funny things. “But seriously?”</p><p>“There’re warm countries in the South. They’ll winter there and come back. Most birds do this.” She looked up to the sky. “Would you like to fly, Benji? Like them, to Africa and back?”</p><p>He shrugged, “I think so… but how? Grandad Victor didn’t want to finish his flying ship?”</p><p>“Nope,” Vee kicked a little stone with the toe of his shoe. “Says, an outdated construction. He wants something faster. Works on sudden jumps, to make them longer, safe and more precise. Wouldn’t it be great, wherever you want to be, you just go there?”</p><p>“Would be nice,” agreed Ben. “Not so interesting. What use will be there in expeditions? If you can just appear at that place.” Ben paused for thought. “Though… it won’t work with the Third Anchor still? Too much of magic disturbances around it.”</p><p>“Would you like to sail to the Third Anchor?” Vee asked, teasing him slightly.</p><p>“I’d like to read about it in books, every bit of everything. But for that, someone must sail to it and write about that.” Ben looked up. “I wonder if any birds fly over the Anchor. Could they tell about it…”</p><p> </p><p>⁂</p><p> </p><p>Ben hated medicals. He can tell it was the thing he hated the most in his life as a student. It’s why he went at it in the morning of its first day. In addition, he hoped for the fewer people would be there at that time, and it was so.</p><p>The procedure took no more than half an hour and went as expected. At the final stage, as usual, a wizard medic told Ben to roll up his sleeve and put a magic-circled disk to Ben’s arm. His skin got tingled, there was a flink, then the disk beeped. The medic removed it and looked at the readings.</p><p>“Category C,” he snorted. “Now what do these people even do there?”</p><p>Ben managed to stop his facial muscles from betraying his feelings. He knew that his face expressed nothing. It had always been his way of self-defence, an sure one, the only one — till Verity taught him some different ones. But they couldn’t be used all the time, not in cases like this.</p><p>“Thackerey is one of the most studious students,” the lecturer in the magic history said drily, from behind the medic’s back. The rules demanded someone of the college staff present at the medicals.</p><p>“No doubt,” the medic smiled sneeringly. “What else could <em>this kind</em> do?”</p><p>“We are quite satisfied with our student contingent,” the lecturer remarked stiffly.</p><p>“Every man thinks his own geese swans,” the medic wrote down Ben’s readings into his card. “Of course, it isn’t the Widdershins university, you must be content with what there is.”</p><p>Ben saw that the lecturer’s face became expressionless, too, and he couldn’t be silent anymore.</p><p>“Geese can be useful, too,” he stated. “It is said they saved Rome from the barbarian invaders… sir.”</p><p>Unperturbed, the medic just looked through Ben and dismissed him. But Ben could see the lecturer smiling a bit and a student, who waited her turn, giving him the thumbs-up.</p><p> </p><p>⁂</p><p> </p><p>The part of Ben’s job in the library he loved the least was the service to readers. It wasn’t about freshmen who looked at catalogue boxes like they were differential equations (is it even possible to finish school without visiting some library?). Not about professors who had fathomed mysteries of magic and wasn’t able to understand elementary things: that it is <em>impossible</em> to get a rare volume from “deeps” funds in a minute (or even five minutes!), and this fact can’t be changed by the most extreme urgency or all of the academic distinctions or the magic spell “I just need to look at it”. Not about readers of any age and ranks who filled in halves of order forms stubbornly in different ways, never mind instructions on forms, written up examples and his verbal warnings.</p><p>No, it was small routine things. The problem was…</p><p>Ben looked at a student girl who stood hesitant nearby the serving stand. It was a bad sign because ones who didn’t know what to do but knew what they wanted would rush to librarians directly. Those who knew nothing at all usually hung around the doorway.</p><p>“Can I help you?” Ben asked politely, still hoping for the better.</p><p>“I just want to ask… are you Benjamin Thackerey?”</p><p>“I am,” Ben admitted, with a resigned inner sigh, because it was more concise and proper answer than, “My badge says so.”</p><p>“The very one? Who saved the University on All Sins’ Day?”</p><p>“I wasn’t alone,” Ben replied a bit stiffly.</p><p>“I know! Sidney Malik was here, too, we used to be in the same year!.. But it is you, yes?”</p><p>Ben simply nodded and started to turn the list of possible scenarios and his responses over in his mind.</p><p>Some people began to thank or praise him, making Ben wish to hide under the stand. Fortunately, he realised soon that “It was nothing” would be tactless. So he said just “I had good teachers.” and “I was in a good team.” Before students, he went into talking about the importance of good education and teamwork. No one was able to stand it longer than a minute.</p><p>Some people, with an interest Ben surely could understand, asked about other Deadlies. What worked there was “It’s a long story, and I’m paid not for talkings.”</p><p>And some people asked how Ben was able to win over Pride, and he said simply, “I don’t wish to discuss that.”</p><p>At that time the girl worked up the nerve and blurted out, “Can I have your autograph?”</p><p>The fourth option, then. Ben took a sheet of paper from a pile and picked up a writing feather.</p><p> </p><p>The senior librarian James Greene returned from his lunch at last to take Ben’s place.</p><p>“Too many fans?” he asked with sympathy. Ben made a vague gesture. “It’s not so bad,” he tried to cheer up Ben. “I think a few people would like to be in your place.”</p><p>“No,” Ben said earnestly. “No one wishes to be in someone else’s place, really. People just think that they want this. I did that, too,” he added in a low tone.</p><p>The librarian smiled, “Are you going to your lunch?”</p><p>“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather work in the section of manuscripts and engravings. Miss Stevens says, they made no dedusting this year and the last inventory-revision was five years ago. Permission to deal with it in my free time?”</p><p>“No permission,” frowned Greene. “You’re supposed to work in your work time. To have lunch in your lunch break, and get rest in your free time. So you must eat at first, and then you may go to Ms Stevens, but don’t let her keep you till the end of your working day.”</p><p>“Yes, sir!”</p><p> </p><p>Ben went vigorously on his usual way, now and then returned greetings from passing people. He felt nothing beyond a weak hunger and wishing to resume his work as soon as he has his lunch. The University stopped being the place that only fortunate ones, like Blake and Bryony, could belong to. There was no more envy or feeling of inferiority inside him, just eager anticipation of working with manuscripts. And the Main Hall was recalled without shame or pride, as an unpleasant but a well-done job.</p><p>Ben didn’t feel like a goose between swans anymore.</p>
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